Television: The True Depths of Life
by The-Awesomous-Ones
Summary: The Official Story of the Everwood Escapades. And it's also a bizzare little story about our favorite television characters who don't know they are television characters...until now. Dun dun dun. By the beautiful Ditey and Singcraz
1. The Art of Introduction

Television: The True Depths of Life  
  
Official Story of the Everwood Escapades  
  
Chapter 1: The Art of Introduction  
  
---------------------  
  
The Official Everwood Escapades Anthem (please stand)  
  
Pressure, pushing down on me  
  
Pressing down on you, no man ask for  
  
Under pressure, that burns a building down  
  
Splits a family in two  
  
Puts people on streets  
  
That's o-kay  
  
It's the terror of knowing  
  
What this world is about  
  
Watching some good friends  
  
Screaming `Let me out'  
  
Pray tomorrow takes me higher  
  
Pressure on people, people on streets  
  
Chipping around, kick my brains around the floor  
  
These are the days it never rains but it pours  
  
People on streets, people on streets  
  
It's the terror of knowing  
  
What this world is about,  
  
Watching some good friends  
  
Screaming `Let me out'  
  
Pray tomorrow takes me higher  
  
Pressure on people, people on streets  
  
Turned away from it all, like a blind man  
  
Sat on a fence but it don't work  
  
Keep coming up with love  
  
But it's so slashed and torn  
  
Why why why?  
  
Love love love love  
  
Insanity laughs, under pressure we're cracking  
  
Can't we give ourselves one more chance  
  
Why can't we give love one more chance  
  
Why can't we give love, give love, give love, give love, give love  
  
Cause love's such an old fashioned word  
  
And love dares you to care  
  
For the people on the edge of the night  
  
And love dares you to change our way of  
  
Caring about ourselves  
  
This is our last dance   
  
This is ourselves  
  
Under pressure  
  
Under pressure  
  
Pressure  
  
~David Bowie and Queen  
  
This is the official story of the Everwood Escapades, found at www.angelfire.com/stars4/everwood_escapades. If you have been there, as you all should have, you know what it's all about. Basically, it's a site dedicated completely to finding the best Everwood fanfiction around. We opened a "poll booth" where people submitted the names of their favorite authors and stories to us. We counted them up, wrote them down, advertised, created awards for our winners, bred hybrid kangaroos/monkeys, you name it, we did it for the site.   
  
Now this is the part where YOU get involved. Every chapter, we will mention the authors and/or stories nominated in our "poll".   
  
The categories we have are:  
  
Best Everwood Fanfiction Writer  
  
Best Short Story  
  
Best AU/New Character Story  
  
Best Soliloquy  
  
Best Song/Poem Fic  
  
Most Original Story Idea  
  
And our most prestigious award: The Daydreamer Award, the one story that really made you think about life, love, ect.   
  
MAKE SURE NOT TO VOTE IN YOUR REVIEW! That's a HUGE fanfic.net no-no! Vote on our poll at www.angelfire.com/stars4/Everwood_escapades PLEASE!  
  
We'll add up all the votes, and when the time is right, we'll tell everyone who won that category. The nominees and winners get buttons, and we have a surprise for EVERYONE who wins!   
  
Remember: your vote really counts! Thank you all so much!  
  
Love always!  
  
Your fellow writers/fans,  
  
~Ditey  
  
and  
  
~Ivy (a.k.a singcraz)   
  
And now? On to the nominees! 


	2. The Art of Discovery

Television: The True Depths of Life  
  
Chapter 1: The Art of Discovery   
  
By Ivy (singcraz) of The Awesomous Ones  
  
-------------------------------  
  
Computer screens tend to glare. You sit at the computer for a few hours, answering e-mails, talking to friends, surfing the net. It's a daily ritual for many people, an addiction for a few; it even has been mistaken for God by a minority of people. Most of the population swears by it, claiming they could never live without the Internet.   
  
So you sit there, typing, staring, fingers getting more exercise than ever before, clicking clacking away. You glance at the time every few minutes. Ten minutes goes by, half an hour, "Oh look, Dharma and Greg is on!" time, and soon you've been on for three hours, hungry for social connections. Oh yeah, and your eyes are burning like two balls of fire from the seemingly harmless rays seeping from the screen . . .  
  
- - - - - - - -   
  
Ephram Brown rubbed his eyes. He had been sitting there for too long, searching for anything, literally anything to do in Everwood that day. So far, all he had found to do for "fun" were to sit at Mama Joy's or to surf the web in the privacy of his own home. Go figure.   
  
As a last resort, he brought up his search engine and typed in "Everwood stuff". The results were amazing.   
  
He quickly scanned through the hundreds of results.   
  
'Everwood furniture.' 'Ever wonder how much money you could save?' 'The WB presents the new hit drama, Everwood.' 'I love Everwood!'  
  
"What an asylum escapee," he thought to himself.   
  
'The WB is completely genius! Everwood is great!'  
  
"Who is this WB person?"   
  
'The Everwood Escapades! A site completely dedicated to the writers of Everwood fanfiction!' 'Ephram's character on Everwood is so great. Deep, brooding, and not to mention, completely hot!'   
  
Ephram did a double take.   
  
"Must be a coincidence," he muttered, and continued his search. "Amy and Ephram are so meant for each other! I hope the writers of Everwood help, no, MAKE them get together!" Ephram stared, blank faced. Slowly, very slowly, he reached his hand out to click the mouse. He glanced at his hand as if every second was a chance to tell himself to stop it and to turn off his computer. It was a prank, he was sure of it; the people at his school were trying to freak him out. No, it was Bright, trying to scare him out of the city. Yes, that's right, it was Bright's fault. He should let it go and walk away. That was the only rational thing to do, the only adult thing to do.   
  
He clicked the link. And what came on the screen was the last thing he had expected. He gasped loudly and fell to the floor.   
  
"DAD!" Andy flew into his son's room, out of breath from running up the stairs. A floral potholder covered his right hand, as he had been downstairs cooking when he heard the yell.   
  
"What is it?? Are you ok?" he belted as he ran towards Ephram, helping him to stand. Ephram was silent for a while, his face entirely white and entirely blank, holding no expression whatsoever. His father shook him by the elbows, but there was little reaction, only Ephram's head bobbing with the shaking action. Andy tightened his grip on his son's arms and looked him in the eye. In a shaky, slow movement, Ephram turned his head to face his computer screen. Andy followed his son's eyes and looked at the computer. He pursed his lips and blew up.   
  
"You took a PICTURE of you and Amy MAKING OUT and put it on the INTERNET???" Andy howled. Ephram began to laugh. Not just a chuckle or a simple snort, no, it was a long, drawn out, almost insane laugh. It seemed completely out of place for that particular moment. After what seemed a forever of laughing, Ephram stopped abruptly and whispered:   
  
"You think I put that picture up there?" and continued with his laughing fit. Andy's jaw dropped and he stuttered around for words, wishing the right ones would form in his mouth.   
  
"Um, well, I guess you wouldn't, but um, there you are with Amy and it's really crisp and it's online and I just figured that maybe somehow there was some way you might have-"   
  
"You jackass," Ephram smiled snidely as he said that, and finally plopped himself down on his bed, calming down a bit. A few more chuckles escaped from his lips and Andy merely stood, gaping at his son.   
  
"I was simply searching the Internet, and all of a sudden, I start seeing all these websites, talking about me. So I decide to check one out, and there that picture is! I don't know how anyone took that, because we were all alone down there and it says there's some TV show called Everwood and there's a character named Ephram and I have no idea what's going on!"   
  
There was a pause.   
  
"You were ALONE with Amy MAKING OUT?" Andy shouted.   
  
"Stop saying that!" Ephram yelled back. "She kissed me once and ran away! It didn't even last two seconds and you're not even paying attention to what I'm saying!" Ephram yelled back.   
  
Andy was mad now. "Well what are you saying?? Spit it out already!"   
  
"Well," Ephram started, "I think we're being watched."   
  
Now it was Andy's turn to laugh. He chortled silently, his hands placed on his hips.   
  
"What are you laughing at? I'm completely serious!" Andy just continued.   
  
"Damnit! Listen to me!"   
  
"So, haha, so let's see, your theory is that there's a television show called Everwood and we're the stars?"   
  
"Exactly!" Ephram sighed.   
  
"Oh yes, of course there is, sweetie," Andy smiled sarcastically, "And there's a camera there and there and probably one right in front of your face! Hell, they might have attached them in the night into our eyes so we're really filming everything we see!"   
  
"Why are you making a joke about this?" Ephram bellowed.   
  
"It's because I'm with them. BOO," Andy shook his hands next to his face in a mock-scary way and Ephram crossed his arms over his chest and looked up at the ceiling, obviously embarrassed.   
  
"C'mon, be rational, Ephram. Go read a book or something, and stop thinking about it," Andy added sincerely. "And don't you dare fill your sisters brain with these silly thoughts. Dinner will be ready in an hour," Andy walked out, and glanced back in as he shut the door slowly.   
  
Once Ephram wouldn't see him any longer, he smoothed down his hair and blew out a long breath. Suspiciously, he glanced around, looking for hidden cameras. He finally laughed at himself and walked downstairs, only once turning around to look at the side of the bookshelf near Ephram's room.   
  
"He's right. It's silly. Go grab a comic and sit down. That's right. Ok," Ephram sat on his bed and began to read.   
  
But couldn't stop his gaze from going to the computer screen. The picture was still up there. He got up and pressed the "back" button and sat back down. "Concentrate!" he whispered to himself. He crossed his legs, flipped the page, and sighed.   
  
"Fine! You win!" he said to the computer and sat down, clicking another link.   
  
"Everwood fanfiction contest?" he said to himself as he read about this . . . Everwood Escapades thing. He wrote down some notes, muttered, "Huh," and clicked the link titled 'fanfiction.net' and. He decided to start reading, to see what this "fanfiction" thing was.   
  
Starting with the nominated "Best Authors":   
  
Ditey   
  
Jack B. Nimble   
  
Lady Jenna   
  
DarkKnight6   
  
Drama-Duchess   
  
MariBlueCareBear   
  
WickedWillow1   
  
Always Krissy   
  
It always seemed smartest to start with the best! As he read the stories written by these authors, he was immediately saddened. People knew about him. They found him sarcastic, cute; sometimes they even made him suicidal. They wrote about Amy, about Colin, about how his family, friends, enemies and acquaintances. It seemed they could get into his head and make anything seem, well, true. They put words in his mouth, quoted things he had really said, made up stories and fantasies, sometimes even about "Sir Ephram of York". They were silly, depressing, romantic, and gory. His life was public entertainment.   
  
Sometimes they mentioned a "Greg Berlanti" fellow. He was supposedly the "creator" of this "Everwood" show.   
  
Ephram wanted to find him.   
  
Ephram needed to find him.   
  
It was his life mission.   
  
- - - - - -   
  
"Operator, how may I help you?"   
  
"I'd like the number for a . . . Greg Berlanti," he replied strongly.   
  
"What area?" she replied.   
  
"Um . . ." The operator sighed.   
  
"Do you know where this guy lives?"   
  
"Not exactly," Ephram answered slowly.   
  
"Look kid, find out where this guy lives and then I'll tell you his number, capish?"   
  
"Sure," Ephram snorted. Maybe this wasn't going to be so easy after all. He hung up the phone. Maybe it would be impossible. He went downstairs, grabbed up the phone book, and dodged his dad as he shouted, "Who are you trying to call?"   
  
"Someone," he said back as he bounded up the stairs. He plopped the book on his desk and opened it up.   
  
"Berlanti, Berlanti . . ." he muttered as his finger scanned through the B's. He checked again. And once more. He cursed after finding no luck and sat down, defeated. Who else could he call? There seemed to be no one. But then there was that "WB" character . . . He flipped to the W's now, and searched more carefully this time over.   
  
Aha! "WB Studios". He dialed the 1-800 number and waited.   
  
"Hello, you've reached the WB Studios, Burbank, California. Please wait while we connect you." He waited for five minutes and was finally connected to an on-site worker.   
  
"Lisa Johnson, how can I help?" a woman with an East Coast accent asked kindly.   
  
"Hi, um, I need to know where I can reach Greg Berlanti. I guess he created a show called Everwood and I needed some information." He waited for a second in silence as the aforementioned Lisa spoke to a co-worker.   
  
"I don't think I can give you his number," she said, "but I might be able to answer a few questions if you want." Ephram answered, somewhat disappointed, but would take whatever he got.   
  
"Sure. What's the show about?" As Lisa answered and Ephram listened intently, smiling slightly at the whole idea that his life was on TV! It was sort of a frightening concept, but could have really cool effects on his life! He had always wondered what it would be like to be a television star. But wait, he didn't even know he was on TV until and hour ago! Was this some weird ploy? How was it he hadn't found out until now? How long had this been going on?   
  
"Thanks," he said, cutting her off, and hung up.   
  
"I'll be home in a few," he said to his dad as he ran out the door. Andy stared in shock. He began cutting vegetables again as he glanced around his house, wondering what really was going on.   
  
- - - - - - - -   
  
That night, thousands of people around the world watched Andy Brown as he made a casserole for dinner.  
  
- - - - - - - -   
  
[A/N: you heard it! The nominees for best author are: Ditey, Jack B. Nimble, Lady Jenna, DarkKNight6, Drama-Duchess, MariBlueCareBear, WickedWillow1, and Always Krissy. Now get voting!]  
  
Everwood Escapades: www.angelfire.com/stars4/everwood_escapades 


	3. The Art Of Reality

Chappie 2:

The Art of Reality

- By Ditey

Ephram ran, until he didn't even remember why. The thought struck him again, and he knew he had to do something. Take some sort of action.

Subconsciously, he found himself in front of Amy's house. He tried to come up with an explanation as to why he always seemed to gravitate towards her, but rang the doorbell instead.

A blonde-haired boy opened the door, in his other hand a large tub of potato chips.

"What do you want?" the boy asked, glaring. Ephram rolled his eyes, not thrilled at all at the aspect of talking to Bright again.

"Amy."

"What do you want with her?"

"Bright. Please, this is really important." 

"Yeah? What? You want to knock her up or something?"

He sighed. "You really want to know?" Bright gave a small nod. Ephram surveyed the area to the right and left of him in a very James Bond like manner, and lowered his voice to a soft whisper.

"We're being watched." Bright guffawed. 

"I'm serious. They could be watching. This. Very. Second." Ephram's grave look made Bright's grin drop severely, and he too began to look suspiciously into bushes and birdhouses. 

"Get in," he whispered, closing the door slowly.

"Amy!" Bright called, climbing up the stairs, Ephram right behind him.

"For the last time, I don't know where your Superman boxers are...oh. Ephram! I---I didn't know you'd be here!" Amy tried to inconspicuously tidy up her appearance, reshaping her ponytail and smoothing out her jeans. 

"Amy, I need to tell you something."

"Yeah? Whatever could that be?" she mused out loud, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

"Well...There are these WB people that tape our lives and produce a TV drama called Everwood about it, and it's broadcasted across the world and people actually like it, and they talk about us and there's this weird Greg guy that comes up a lot, and some people write these stories about us, except they're not true, and they're all about us, and everyone we know, and today I found pictures of us making out on the Internet."

"Oh." Disappointed, Amy brought her hand down from her hair, and her sly grin fell. 

"Dude, Ame, this is important!" stated Bright. "I mean, they could be watching us now! They could know what we're *thinking*."

Amy thought about it for a while, and widened her eyes in realization and worry. "They would know the way I feel about Ephram! I mean, don't feel about Ephram! Because my boyfriend is Colin!"

"That never, ever cheated on you!" Bright agreed, then pausing and reflecting on the summer of the accident, losing himself while Ephram tried to make sense of it all.

"I know it's something only Rod Serling could come up with, but it's true. Here...um...do you have a computer?" Amy showed him the small Mac on her desk, and sat close to him while he retrieved Google's search results for, 'Everwood stuff'.

The page opened. 

"Oh. My. God," Amy breathed. On just the first page alone was so much information...links to the WB, fansites, downloaded episodes, art and fanfic. There were pictures of them, bios of them, and of the small town they lived in...not so much new information, but merely the fact that it was there had them both panicking. 

"Should we..." Ephram started, not sure whether or not to venture into the void.

"...yeah..." Amy ended, clicking on the first link she could find. A message board appeared on the screen.

"Breakout Series...fresh faces...engaging love triangles? Everwood has been called a Gilmore Girls on testosterone."

"They've got Rory too?" Ephram asked urgently.

"You know her?"

"Brief thing in New York," Ephram explained. Amy nodded.

"And...oh. Wow." Ephram peered closer to read the post.

" 'AmY aNd ePhRaM ArE sO CuUuTe. diE cOLiN! AnD ePhRaM iS hOTT.' Exclamation point. Well." Ephram leaned back into his chair, puzzled yet oddly intrigued.

" 'I personally think Amy is too good for him. She treats him like crap but when she needs him, she always expects him to be there...' What? I am *not* like that."

" 'God, I can't believe how horrible Amy was in today's ep!!! Telling Colin they never knew each other???? Yeah, Amy, Ephram was never there during your breakdown, or when you were about to give up on Colin. Some friend you are.' Wait...how did they now about..."

" 'Did anyone else crack up when Bright told Dr. Abbott he was a virgin? That was the highlight of my night!' "

"Hey!" spoke up Bright, joining the two at the computer and peering over their shoulders, "I'm *am* not! I happen to have done it! A lot! And wait...I didn't tell anyone but Dad...AMY!"

"I swear, I---I didn't know!" Amy said, between giggles. Ephram reached a more serious tone. 

"Guys. This is real. There is really a show about us. How else would everyone know all this stuff? Amy dissing me when Colin came back...Bright's lack of...well...his..."

"I prefer, inexperience," Bright mumbled.

"Right. We've got to do something about this." The three joined together in a moment of silence, looking upward hoping a brilliant plan would come to them.

"I got it!" exclaimed Bright. "Okay, we get these leather outfits, and break into WB studios, pretend we're Smallville freaks of the weeks..."

"Eh...I don't think so," said Amy.

"Clark's in on it too?" Ephram inquired dramatically. Amy sighed.

"What about, we just don't do anything, and sit in our rooms all day, so that they have nothing to film?"

"Duh, Amy. Not only have you got that little I-love-him/I-love-him-not thing with Ephram, but your boyfriend that was in a coma is going through surgery, and we don't even know if he's dead or alive. Yeah, they'll find *something* to film."

"Actually," spoke up Ephram, "there are some spoilers on here that reveal the outcome of Colin's surgery. Colin is officially---"

Bright and Amy covered their ears.

"Ephram! You'll ruin it for us!" scolded Amy.

Bright continued to ramble on. "---and then there's Ephram's sister---she's got a pretty creepy crush on me...good thing it only lasted about two scenes...and then there's our parents---I'm pretty sure my dad has a boycrush on yours---"

"Okay, Bright, we get it!" Ephram announced.

"Just making sure."

They all sighed once again.

"I don't know what we should do," exhaled Amy, leaning back.

"Um...you want to read more of those stories about us in the meantime?" Ephram offered.

"Okay!" they agreed in unison.

"Only in the ones that I'm not a total bitch, though, and cheat on Colin and cause your destruction."

"And only in the ones in which I'm straight."

"I had a really good list up here the other day...here it is." Ephram pulled up the Everwood Escapade page.

"What is it?" asked Bright.

"Well, Ivy and Ditey here, said it's a way to honor the best writers and stories of Everwood fanfiction. And have fun. And keep them busy," Ephram said, reading the scrolling bullets.

"Nice. A blonde and the goddess of love..."

"Bright. They're too young for you."

"What's a few years when it's...ow!"

Ephram ignored the siblings and continued to look at their short story nominations.

"Hey, listen up! For best short story, we've got: 

Massive Attack, by bj.

Break Away, by Eilla.

Falling, by Elle Mira.

Moonlight Sonata, by Black Opal.

Pencils and Erasers, by Clark's Girl.

Imperfection, by Ditey.

The Safety vs the Risk, by HisPunkRockPrincess.

Another Me, by Bellaitaliana.

She Was Invulnerable, by bj, and

One Day You'll Know (Alternate Version), by twinlakeshgrl."

"Well, let's start reading. And don't worry, Bright, they're short," said Amy. Bright instantly smiled.

"Hmm...you know, these are really good," commented Ephram, almost finished reading the stories on the list.

"I know. It's going to be hard to pick just one," said Amy.

"Yeah," agreed Bright. "Hey, do you think any of these girls will give me their number?" 

---------------------------

A/N: And there you have it! The nominees for this year's, "Best Short Story." Congrats to all nominees! And here's the REALLY IMPORTANT PART!  We decided that to keep the suspense going, instead of voting in our guestbook, e-mail us your awesome nominations at MysteryWays4Me@aol.com.  We know we are cruel, we know we are sneaky, we know that you most likely hate us now and want to kick our casket with a mighty force. But that's how it goes! But don't worry, you beautiful people, we will count the nominations that were already sent in! 

The official list of categories is as follows:

Best Everwood Fanfiction Writer

Best Short Story

Best AU/New Character Story

Best Soliloquy

Best Song/Poem Fic

Most Original Story Idea

And the Nacho Supreme of them all: The Daydreamer Award, reserved for that one story

that changed your life and how you see the world around you. And other philosophical questions such as, 'why is canon Bright *not* gay?' and, 'Dammit, why is Ephram not in love with *me*?' etc. 

MAKE SURE NOT TO VOTE IN YOUR REVIEW! That's a HUGE fanfic.net no-no!

Send 'em over by the wonderful invention of e-mail, or off with your head! *Motions to medieval guillitine*

Remember: your vote really counts! Thank you all so much!

Love always!

Your fellow writers/fans,

~Ditey

and

~Ivy (a.k.a singcraz) 

P.S. Check out the site in a few days, you nominees! We'll have some really awesome buttons for your own sites to choose from!


	4. The Art of Fame

Chapter 3: The Art Of Fame

The hospital was deserted. It was a perfect "God in the machine" moment in so many ways. A dark figure knocked on one of the great, glass doors of the entrance, and sighed greatly when they noticed the doors were unlocked. They crept stealthily, careful that their black ski mask was in place, and continued on their way. They crawled down the halls, greatly resembling a mouse, searching for the cheese at the end of the maze. Once they found their destination, they stood swiftly, glanced around, and walked in the private room, closing the door behind them. 

Staring down at the sleeping boy, the black clad sneak let one tear fall on the man's face, glancing at the oxygen tube in his nose, the IV in his arm, his sleeping face. They slowly bent down to kiss his closed eyes, stroked his jaw line, and quickly pulled the life support cord. 

Colin Hart jolted slightly, took a few desperate breaths, and at last sighed a short puff of air out. The stranger stood for a few seconds longer, and slinked out of the hospital as quickly as they had come in. Stopping only once to look over their shoulder as they ran home, they flung off the mask as their blonde hair blew out in the wind behind them . . .

- - - - - - - -

Bright opened his eyes. Looking around, at first he wasn't sure where he was. He blinked a few times, stretched, and sat up slowly, holding his back for support. He glanced at his surroundings once more and finally came to the conclusion that he had fallen asleep on his living room floor. His back ached from dozing on the hard surface, and his neck cracked when he swiveled it around. As he turned to look at the sofa next to him, something was thrust at his face and the two objects collided. Bright rubbed his cheek where he had been slapped and squinted his eyes menacingly at the slap-ee.  Ephram yawned and sat up on the couch. 

"Oh, that was you?" he asked innocently as his lips curled up in a small smile. "I didn't mean to slap you. I was . . . asleep . . ." he yawned once more and swung his feet over the side of the couch so he was now sitting up straight. Bright continued to glare at him. Ephram dodged the boy's glance as his eyes skimmed the room. "Where's Amy?" he asked quickly. 

"In here!" was shouted in a singsong voice, coming from the kitchen. Bright stood quickly, starting to walk towards the voice and was reluctantly followed by Ephram. As the two boys entered, they were taken aback in shock, both gasping in unison at the sight before them. Their eyes moved back and fourth from the dining room table to the blonde girl in the midst of it all, back and forth, back and forth, both their heads ticking in harmony. Amy smiled blindingly, teeth whiter than ever. "So? What do you think?" 

"It's . . . I'm torn . . . I can't say whether it's nice or just plain _weird_," Ephram replied weakly. Amy's frighteningly perky attitude sunk in desperation. 

"_Weird??" _Bright exclaimed as if that was the most preposterous thing he had ever heard. "It's amazing!" he shouted as he sat at the table. "Chow time!"

Ephram just stared at the long wooden table, or what you could see left of the wood, that is. There was food just _covering _the table. Bowls, crock-pots, serving plates overflowing with eggs, bacon, pancakes, French toast, ham, cereal, every single breakfast dish you could imagine, and even a few scattered lunch pieces. Here sat enough food to feed a whole city where there were only three to dine on it. It almost seemed that it had been made just for the sake of being made. Amy grinned longingly once more at Ephram, seeking approval. Bright glanced back and forth at both of them as he shoveled as much food as he could into his mouth. "What?" he asked as neither said a thing, Ephram staring at the table, Amy staring at Ephram, Bright staring at both as if they were nuts. "Eat!" he egged both on, receiving no reply.  He shrugged and went back to his meal. The purple haired boy finally looked at the girl.

"What _are _you wearing?" he asked. Amy shrugged. 

"Yeah, Amy. The pink apron and red dress totally clash. Plus, you have mixed up two completely different eras with the 1950's dress and 70's chic headband. And why are you wearing my, err, mom's pearls?" Bright blathered after finally swallowing his food. The other two started at him, sharing miniscule knowing glances with each other. "What?" he asked naively after a few moments of silence. Amy sat down and began placing sausages on her plate. 

"You're so gay," she muttered as she wiped off her hands. Ephram chuckled silently while staring at his empty plate. 

"Say again?" Bright asked. 

"I said 'you're so great'," Amy replied, stressing the last word while tossing her perfect straight hair over her perfect shoulder. Bright glanced at her suspiciously and turned away. "I'm not gay," he muttered. Ephram laughed again. Amy rolled her eyes. 

Ephram tried to change the subject. "You're teeth seem extra . . . perky today, Amy," 

"Thank you. I used my secret recipe," she replied. 

"Oh! What is it? I _love _baking!" Ephram and Amy both started at Bright again. 

Amy sighed. "Bright, just shut up,"

"Will do," he answered as he began to lick his plate. "Gladly," Amy turned to Ephram once more. 

"Well, first I take that Colgate whitening stuff and pour five bottles of it into a vat. Next, I pour in a couple bottles of bleach, Tide with bleach, Snuggle with bleach, bleach floor cleaner," she went on and on for a while as Ephram yawned lazily, uninterested. ". . . tile cleaner, turpentine, and a dash of love. Then you add in some of that clear nail polish. But the ultra secret ingredient is," she leaned in a whispered, "tin foil," and giggled giddily as Ephram cocked an eyebrow and Bright scoured the house for some tin foil. "You paint it on your teeth, and presto! But make sure to call up the poison control center, because I've had to get my stomach pumped a few times from using too much. It's sort of like free liposuction!"

"Oh," Ephram replied. He pushed his plate of food away from himself. "I'm finished," he muttered and Amy looked at him sadly. 

"But you barely touched your food!" 

"Somehow I lost my appetite," he answered, as Bright phoned the poison control center in the other room. "Why did you cook all this anyways?" he asked, as he looked her up and down. She was wearing an outfit only a 1950's mother could love. 

"I had to please the fans!" she cried in mock horror, and waved at a spot where she figured would be an ideal place for a hidden camera. "Hello world! I love you all my loyal fans!" She blew random kisses around the room and sighed. "We have school today," she pouted. 

"I'm, uh, going to be heading, err, well, there's this thing I need to do and, uh, bye!" Ephram stuttered as he bounded out the door, completely freaked out by Amy's change in demeanor, not to mention Bright's transformation. He ran inside his house, slammed the door shut, and leaned on its frame, gasping for breath. 

"Ephram! Breakfast?" Andy boomed as he shoved a plate full of food at his son. Ephram jumped. 

"No! No more food!" he yelled as he looked at his father. "You shaved?" he asked his dad. 

"Well, I had to look good for the fans!" Andy answered as if it were the most obvious thing on Earth. Ephram scowled.

"Get out of my way," he said as he pushed his father aside. 

Andy spun around in surprise. "Is that a no?" when he received no answer, he turned to the camera and smiled. "I'm sure _you'd_ appreciate a nice breakfast in bed, hm?" 

- - - - - - -

"Everwood Escapades, Everwood Escapades," he sighed as he looked through the search engine's results. "Ah, there we go," he clicked the link and cocked an eyebrow when the page popped up. "What's this?" he asked himself. "This isn't right. _Escape To Everwood?" _

"Hey! Isn't that like, the exact same thing?" Bright asked as he popped in the window. 

Ephram glared at the screen. "What a rip off. Why would someone make a site about the same thing with almost the exact same title? Why was Amy dressed like Sabrina from Bewitched? Why did Bright just pop in my window?" Bright smiled. 

"Just came to visit my new buddy, buddy!" he grinned widely and Ephram began to back away towards the door of his room. Bright was approaching him slowly. 

"Oooh no, Bright, I already know what you're gonna say next, and I won't have any of it!" said Ephram as he bumped into his bedpost. 

"Why not?" Bright smiled wryly. "We wouldn't want to disappoint the _fans_," 

"Nooooooo!" Ephram yelled. 

Bright chuckled loudly as he patted Ephram's shoulder. "That was all I came for, E Man. You're really easy to mess with, ya know." Bright shrugged and flew out the window. Ephram gasped for air. What was going on with everyone?

Ephram finally found the **real **Everwood Escapades. "I need to read something new," he said to himself, as he scanned through the nominees for best AU/New Character Stories:

The Dealings of Life by Evil TC

Lost And Kept by The Riff

Birds Coughing In The Trees by Lady Jenna

Long I Stood by DiVinci

Everwood: The Alternate Season 2 series by Jack B. Nimble

Southern Rose by WickedWillow1

Two Roads Diverged In A Yellow Wood by singcraz

"Ephram! Time for school!" his father shouted from downstairs. "The watchers will think you're a lazy bum, which, frankly, you are, if you don't get your butt down here!" Ephram smoothed down his ruffled hair and exhaled deeply as he gave himself a pep talk. "Just another day, Ephram, nothing to worry about, nothing's going to be different."

- - - - - - - -

"Oh my GOD!" Amy screamed as she ran through the halls of her school. She stopped abruptly, splashed some water on her face to give the illusion of tears, and continued her gallop. Ephram stood frozen. "Help! Someone! Ephram! I'm a damsel in distress! You have to help me get over my immediate pain and fall in love with me and then I will drop you like a dead fish again! EEEEEEPPPPHHHHRRRAAAMMMM!!!!!" she yelped at the top of her lungs. 

"Calm down!" Ephram snapped as she huddled in his arms. "What happened?"

"Colin DIED!"

"No he didn't Amy. He was just recovering from surgery when-"

"NO! He died! Someone pulled his plug!" she sobbed into his shirt, tears soaking the same navy blue shirt he wore every single day. People in the hallways glanced at the two in a strange manner and walked past. 

"Amy, uh, you're sorta ruining my shirt," he replied calmly. "Speaking of shirts, what _are _you wearing _now?_" 

"Oh! Do you like it?" she asked as she smiled and spun around with a girly demeanor, completely out of place for this situation. "It cost a fortune, which is hardly a dent in my savings," she replied briskly. Ephram sighed.

"Amy, you're wearing a ball gown to school?" he sighed, exasperated.

"Yep! It's the new fad I'm starting." She smiled giddily. "Isn't it just _scrumptious?_" she whispered. 

"Yeah, I guess. But Colin? Dead?" Ephram murmured. Amy gasped. 

"Oh yes, I almost forgot about our beloved Golden Boy!" Amy said as she clasped her hands together in a very over-dramatic gesture. 

"Golden Boy? Amy, you're starting to sound like-" 

She cut Ephram off. "Yes, that's right," she said, "just like one of the fans."

[A/n: Join us! Join us! Lol. 

That's right, the nominees are:  

The Dealings of Life by Evil TC

Lost And Kept by The Riff

Birds Coughing In The Trees by Lady Jenna

Long I Stood by DiVinci

Everwood: The Alternate Season 2 series by Jack B. Nimble

Southern Rose by WickedWillow1

Two Roads Diverged In A Yellow Wood by singcraz

Now get your butt over to our guestbook-O! Maybe enjoy some _breakfast _while you're at it.]

;-)

~Ditey

and

~Ivy


	5. The Art of Planning

Chapter 4 (written by the insanely fabulous Ditey)

The Art of Planning

I woke up to Ephram kneeling at my bed, and before I could think 'whoa there,' he had shoved me off the mattress, and had his hand over my mouth. Yeah, by then, I was really thinking, 'whoa there.'

I pulled a T-shirt over my head, and combed my hair the best I could in the few minutes I had before we had to leave the house.

It was a dark and stormy night. Not really. But didn't that just set the mood of it all? It was dark though. The sky was the color of...night. With little yellow specks. That's the stars, see. But you know, the more I stared up at the stars, the more the stars seemed to be white. You know? And then, when you try to look away, you get all these dots and spots everywhere in front of your eyes...

Stars are tricky. That's why I never signed up for Astronomy fifth period. I took an extra lunch break instead. I got to eat *two* lunches. I know, I thought it was pretty cool myself.

Anyway. Ephram and I were crouched outside the building, trying to plan our attack, when..."

"Bright, why are you talking to yourself?" Bright paused his mini monologue to turn to Ephram.

"I thought...since we're going to read the nominations for best soliloquy later on...this might help us get in the mood, a bit." Ephram exhaled deeply.

"You remember what to do, right?"

"Well. I ring the doorbell, and say..."

"...Yes?"

"...um. Are you paying to much for car insurance?"

"No! You ring the doorbell, and ask, 'where are the restrooms?' and you put on that stupid face you do so well..."

"Wait, this one?" Bright raised his eyebrows, opened his eyes wide, and narrowed his mouth, pulling together a semi-educated look.

"No, not that." 

"Oh," said Bright, relaxing and retrogressing into the perfect, 'stupid face.'

"And then, ask the person to escort you there, and meanwhile I sneak in. Right?"

"Right. I think." 

"Just. Get in there." Ephram pushed Bright closer to the WB building door. Bright looked back hesitantly before finally reaching for the intercom button.

"Hello, and welcome to WB studios. This is Lisa, how may I help you?"

"Hi..Lisa? This is Bright--" he glanced back to Ephram standing behind him, who had just stopped flailing his arms 'no!', and began to bury his face in his hands.

"I mean..this is...Br...Brob. Yes. Brob Joe. From Sweetwater, Arkansas." Bright developed a thick southern accent in a matter of moments. 

"Yup, I was just fixin' to visit ya'll, and ask where the outhouses be located."

There was silence on the intercom, until the woman replied deftly, "I'll send someone right over."

"Well, thank you kindly, misses." Bright smiled widely and gave Ephram, who was trying to hide in the bushes, a conspicuous thumbs up.

"Did someone ask for---a tour guide?" came a booming voice from in front of the door. Bright stepped back to see a man dressed all in white with his hands rested on his hips talking to him.

"Hello there, young man," the guy continued. "I am Tour Guide Man, here to rid the world of annoying tourists, constantly flipping to maps, and asking for directions in a broken English."

"Well, now, lookey here, missr," began Bright, and Ephram just looked down to contemplate the large number of psychos there were in the world.

Eventually, Tour Guide Man and Hillbilly Bright left in search of the bathrooms, and Ephram snuck out of the bushes. He entered the building carefully and closed the door behind him. 

He tip-toed past the office buildings, hid behind dresser racks to avoid detection, and bent over and crawled to get past the receptionist's desk. Realizing he had no idea where to go, and where to look, he frantically surveyed the area for some kind of map to help him get through the labyrinth that was the WB studios.

He found a directory lying on the desk next to a telephone, and he decided to quickly flip through it before anyone caught him. 

"B, B for Berlanti. Not Bernstein...Berrera...no, Berlanti.." he muttered. Ephram suddenly heard a voice behind him yell, 'hey there! Authorized personnel only!' and he froze.

The woman caught up with him with a stern look on her face. "Now, look here," she began, and Ephram raised his face to meet his punishment. Damnit, this probably meant jail or something.

"I don't know who you think you---oh! I'm so sorry. I had no idea it was you, Mr. Smith. Please...oh. Please forgive me." Her face instantly turned from condescension to apology.

"Um. Sure." Ephram looked at her with puzzlement. 

"I'm so sorry," she reiterated. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Ephram got that stereotypical gaze of ponder, while he rubbed his chin and said, "Well..."

Ten minutes later, Ephram was standing outside Greg Berlanti's trailer, a piece of paper in his hands with directions in one hand, and a tall Chocolate Brownie Frappacino in the other. Hey, whoever this Smith guy was, he had the life.

Ephram debated whether or not to knock on the door for several minutes. Was he really ready to be handed the truth? Like how long he had been on TV? Exactly *how much* was on film?

In the end, his curiosity got the better of him, and he knocked on the metal door of the trailer. "Just a moment!" someone called from inside, and he opened the door.

"Hi," began Ephram, "I don't know if you know me, but I'm Ephram Brown. I live in Everwood, Colorado, about the crappiest place on earth. Anyway..."

"Ooh. Very good. I like that. You really got into the character that time."

"Um. I'm sorry, but what are you talking about?"

"Oh, Gregory, you jokester."

"Wait, I thought your name was Gregory...Greg Berlanti--that's you, right?" Ephram looked down to his directions and re-matched them.

"I am...but...who are you?"

"I'm Ephram Brown."

"Ephram?"

"Yeah, Ephram. My dad's a doctor. Maybe you've heard of him. Everyone else has. I just wanted to ask you.."

"YOU'RE Ephram Brown?" 

"...yes, I think we've already established that."

"Oh, God, the wife always did tell me I was spending too much time on the show...if only I had listened to her...shouldn't have spent all night writing 'Colin the Second'...just let it slide like 'Everwood Confidential'..."

"Are...are you okay?" Ephram tried.

"I mean, I thought they would end. All those dreams. I'm hallucinating. I'm going crazy. Or maybe this is all a fever. Wake up, Berlanti!"

Ephram put his hand to Greg's forehead. "You feel fine."

Berlanti backed away from Ephram's hand, cold from the chilled drink.

"Go...go away. I don't want to see you anymore."

"But, I just wanted to talk to you about this show.." Ephram didn't have much more to say, as he was shoved out of the trailer the next moment, with the door slammed in his face.

Ephram could hear the faint mutterings of something like, "I need to find me a shrink."

"Ephram!" He turned around to see Bright jogging back towards him.

"Well, did you get anything?" Bright asked. Ephram shook his head glumly.

"Nope. But I did catch Greg Berlanti's mid-life crisis. What about you?" Bright rolled his eyes.

"That Tour Guide guy was hella annoying. More so than my sister's Furby."

"Amy had a *FURBY*?"  Bright nodded.

"I am *so* getting back at her for starting that virgin rumor about me."

"You know, Bright? This is really depressing."

"This chapter? I know."

"Wanna go find the nearest computer and read the nominations for best soliloquy?"

"Yeah, sure. Just make sure it's the Everwood Escapades, and not some odd variation." Ephram clicked around and received the main page, newly designed in a burnt ember sort of color.

"You know. Amy is really hot," sighed Ephram breezily. Bright shifted in his seat uneasily. 

"I don't think I should find anyone in that picture hot." 

"..Um. Okay. Anyway. Here are the nominations:

--------------------------------------------------

Open Your Eyes, by Bella Italiana

Confessions, by Wendells

Moving On, by Bella Italiana

The Gift of Love, by Digurl

I'm Leaving, by Leet911

One Day You'll Know, by twinlakeshgrl

Last Little Piece of My Heart, by MariCareBear and

Thoughts of a Purple Haired Rebel, by Ditey.

--------------------------------------------------

"Neat," commented Ephram, once they were through reading them all.

"How in tarnation is I supposed't choose one piece o' fiction?"

"Bright. That accent? Over."

"Yes'r."

So sorry about the lack of updates, you guys, but sadly, Ivy just happens to be a lazy bum, and we couldn't tear her away from picking up scrap metal and placing it in her grocery cart allllll day… ok, maybe not that bad, but she is quite sluggish. She even looks like a slug. Or a sloth. Take your pick. 

ANYWAYS…

Vote, vote, and vote some more (by e-mail for all you forgetful people out there!!). 

~Ivy

and

~Ditey


End file.
